


there's a pain goes on and on

by rexcorvidae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Baby Harry Potter, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Remus Lupin Raises Harry Potter, altho thats not rly the focus of this fic, but like canon character deaths, remus is having a hard time yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24401035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexcorvidae/pseuds/rexcorvidae
Summary: On a warm, sunny day at the Burrow, Harry points to Remus and delightedly crows "Daddy!"In what he will later consider a rather impressive display of composure, Remus manages to give him a weak, shaky smile, like that's not the worst fucking thing he's ever heard.-remus lupin may be good at burying his emotions, but some pains demand to be felt. molly helps him deal with the fall-out.
Relationships: Remus Lupin & Harry Potter, Remus Lupin & Molly Weasley
Comments: 15
Kudos: 252





	there's a pain goes on and on

**Author's Note:**

> this could be considered a continuation of my last remus-raises-harry-fic or its own thing, idk. harry is right around 2 here.
> 
> remus was introduced to the weasleys by mcgonagall who _suggested_ (read:forced) remus to set up play-dates with the weasley kids so he and harry would like, leave the house and talk to other humans on occasion. congratulations to the weasleys on their new depressed werewolf son. 
> 
> on god yall this started out as a fluffy/funny fic about remus sputtering and being awkward over harry calling him dad but then it spun out of control

On a warm, sunny day at the Burrow, Harry points to Remus and delightedly crows "Daddy!"

In what he will later consider to be a rather impressive display of composure, Remus manages to give him a weak, shaky smile, like that's not the worst fucking thing he's ever heard. "No, love, remember," He tells Harry gently, "I'm Uncle Moony. Your dad- he loved you very much-"

Harry, all of 2 and a half, quickly loses interest in this conversation. In his defense, Ron is outside already, and pulling a particularly fascinating looking gnome out of the dirt. "Gonna play daddy!" He explains, before toddling past him out the door.

Remus manages a terse, "Excuse me." before taking the opportunity to go throw up in Molly's washroom.

A year's worth of repressed grief hits him like a tidal wave, because _this isn't fair_. It shouldn't be him here, it should be James and Lily. They should get to know their son's favorite thing to eat for breakfast, should get to see the way he floats his blocks into towers. _J_ _ames_ , he thinks, muffling a sob he can't keep back with his hand, _Lily, I'm so sorry, I'm not trying to replace you, if I'd just been smarter, hadn't been so stupidly, blindly in love to see who Sirius really was then maybe, maybe-_

Molly has always known he was young, of course, but the look on his face when he left the room is what really reminds her - lost, and grief-stricken, and _hurt_. He is, she realizes with a sharp ache, a few years younger than Fab and Gid. She casts a silencing charm on the bathroom, sends Arthur out to keep the children entertained, and makes a strong pot of tea.

When he emerges, puffy-eyed, and shame-faced, she steers him to the kitchen table and starts talking.

"After my brothers died, I felt like I was going to die, too. I couldn't take care of the kids - most days, I could barely get out of bed. It was like, everywhere I looked, all I saw were reminders of them. Reminders that I'd never see them again. It felt so terribly unfair that they were gone, that they'd left me behind."

Remus does not look at her, but his hand twitches around his teacup and he blinks furiously. Molly pretends not to notice.

"How-" His voice wobbles, and when he starts again it is with a forced calm that seems ready to shatter at any moment. "I- I _love_ harry, but somedays I wake up and look at him and I can't _breathe_. Lily, and James- Harry was a surprise, but they wanted him _so_ _badly_. They loved him _so much._ I'm- I'm _happy_ with Harry, and how is that fair, when they'll never know him? How- how am I supposed to get up every day knowing-"

He doesn't finish, but he doesn't need to. Molly knows the way grief takes root in your chest and grabs hold, how sometimes every breath is a reminder of those who will never breathe again- those who would be breathing, who should be, if the world was fair.

She takes advantage of the silence to tentatively lay her hand on his. It's cold, and far too bony, she notes absently.

"You do what I did," she says when it becomes apparent that he's done talking. "You take it a day at a time. You try your best to remember that those who loved us wouldn't want to see us suffering over them for the rest of our lives."

His jaw is clenched now, a vain attempt to keep tears from falling, but he hasn't pulled his hand away. "Remus," she adds, just sternly enough to get him to look at her, "You _let us help_."

He crumples. He is still half a child, bearing the grief of men twice his age, and he has fought so hard for so long, but everyone has a breaking point.

Remus goes home that day with puffy eyes. He muddles his way through dinner, gives Harry a bath, and reads him a few passages about unicorns out of his battered Scamander. Harry calls him "Uncle Moony' when he hugs him goodnight, as though their earlier conversation had never happened.

When he wakes the next morning, the sharp ache of grief is still there, rooted firmly in his lungs.

He takes a deep breath in, and for the first time since that terrible Halloween night, he lets himself feel it.

It hurts. It is horrible and unfair and it tears at him painfully-

But he is still alive.

But he can bear it.

He lets out his breath and rises to start breakfast.

_One day at a time_ , he reminds himself as he rouses Harry, _one day at a time._

**Author's Note:**

> me: work on polishing one of the tons of half-finished remus-raising-harry drabbles you have sitting in your wips  
> me to me: write angst in 30 minutes and post
> 
> [tumblr](rexcorvidae.tumblr.com)


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